Friday, January 20, 2012

Waxing poeticially about the moon...and diarrhea

What a week. Seriously. While I had great intentions of writing about my United Nations Association of Utah meeting on Tuesday, and my Salt Lake Council on Foreign Relations meeting on Wednesday, all of my insights went away when I hit my head yesterday morning. I was rushing to get ready for work (I was running late to a meeting) when one of my dining room chairs made a deliberate attempt on my life. I saw stars but as I was late and not bleeding, I still went to work. This is how we know that one day I will die at work....I'll do something stupid and instead of stopping like any other normal human...I'll just continue on until I drop.

Today however, common sense prevailed and I took a sick day. And while I felt much better, there was still a level of strange silliness that governed all that I did. I tried to put together my new desk and if my brother hadn't come over to help me....I still might be trying to put it together.... because, yes, my dexterity was that badly affected by my concussing myself. But the desk is put together and I am currently enjoying a desk situation that makes me want to write....even if it is pure drivel. Also, my desk is now angled in such a way where I can still spy on my neighbors across in the tenement and they really can't see much of me. The new desk also means that my backup hard drive can actually be plugged in and next to my computer for once. So for nostalgia's sake, Jimmy and I looked at the old files and I came across some golden nuggets of writings from me in a file called "Thoughts". They are a collection of short pieces that I wrote in 2002.....just before and shortly after I started blogging. Just like any illicit and vocal reading of a required a dramatic reading. The results? I come across as a whiny, impatient, privileged bitch. It. was. awesome. And probably, not much about me has changed....except now I have a better knowledge of myself and I know proper semi-colon usage.

For your reading pleasure, I am going to share two pieces with you. Feel free to laugh at my weirdness, because it had Jimmy and I rolling. This first one was written a couple of months before I started this blog:

April 10, 2002

So I meant to write the other day, but well, I acted like I normally do. On Monday I went to the Laundromat to do my smelly travel laundry. So after I had stuck my first load of clothes in the dryer, I was sitting down reading TIME magazine. When I heard that all too familiar and all too traumatizing sound: the crunch of a car accident. Oh damn, I hate this—I start to write and then the words go too fast in my head and all of the cool things that I had to say about the accident—you know, the deep reflections on how the airbag will smoke after it deflates, and the blood on the young guy who hit the elderly couple’s car forehead, drip drip dripping down. And how I wanted to go and take a rag to his forehead—because I felt that I could have been useful, but decided against it. He had a cell phone, he could call for help, and he did. There was one cool guy who had pulled over to the side of the road and started to direct traffic. He didn’t have too, but he did even until after the police and the fire department had arrived.

Today I am allergy sick—I sound awful, I feel just as bad. I have a ton of crap to do too. It sucks. But I like making list, because I like the satisfaction of being able to cross this off on them.

Oh, my love for humanity truly shines through there doesn't it? Meh. The guy did have a cell phone to call for help.

The second one I am going to share with you, I wrote on a day where I actually did a blog posting. Read the first one and then question why I didn't post this one's definitely more fun...

June 26, 2002

Today our representative told us that his name is “tombul” when he tried to explain what it meant, he said “like Debbie”. It means “plump”.

I like that word, I like the sound of it, how it just rolls off of your tongue and then bounces. Like a grape on a diving board. Plump.

I got my luggage today from Diyarbakir. The moon was so beautiful. It was low on the horizon but bright and soaked in a deep orange. It seemed to hover, not like it was a fixture in the sky, but more of a stand-in, hoping that people wouldn’t notice that the real one was missing.

I am afraid that I might have diarrhea. That would suck.

And there you go.... if you know anyone else who can wax poeticially about the moon and then in two hits of the return button on the keyboard type about their bowel problems, I want to meet them. They could be my soul mate.

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